


Today where your thoughts have brought you

by dysintegration (robokittens)



Category: DCU, Green Lantern (Comic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-08
Updated: 2012-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/pseuds/dysintegration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The place looks great," Hal said. He clapped Guy on the shoulder as he walked past him, surveying the room, and dropped his suitcase on the sofa. "Really, buddy, I appreciate this. Staying in all those motels ... it gets to a guy, you know?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah," Guy agreed. He didn't, of course: he wished he could sympathize, but he'd only been out of Maryland twice in his life. There were some things that just didn't come with being a junior high phys ed teacher, and he didn't have an impulsive enough nature to go off on wild vacations to places he'd never been, even if he could afford it. Bringing home a man he'd just met at the gym was the most exciting thing he'd done in a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today where your thoughts have brought you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/gifts).



> Takes place during Guy's Secret Origins (#7). This story is adrift in the sands of time, because Englehart apparently had no idea what year he was writing about.

"You're sure you don't mind?"

Guy laughed, shifting his gym bag to his other shoulder and pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket. "It's just a sofa-bed, but it's pretty comfortable." He pulled the door open and flipped the light-switch, revealing a small but clean living room: a television against one wall, a faded brown sofa against the other with a small metal side-table at the near end, carpet that looked like it had started out beige.

"The place looks great," Hal said. He clapped Guy on the shoulder as he walked past him, surveying the room, and dropped his suitcase on the sofa. "Really, buddy, I appreciate this. Staying in all those motels ... it gets to a guy, you know?"

"Oh, yeah," Guy agreed. He didn't, of course: he wished he could sympathize, but he'd only been out of Maryland twice in his life. There were some things that just didn't come with being a junior high phys ed teacher, and he didn't have an impulsive enough nature to go off on wild vacations to places he'd never been, even if he could afford it. Bringing home a man he'd just met at the gym was the most exciting thing he'd done in a long time.

 _Bringing home_ ... Guy's cheeks started to burn, and he quickly walked into the kitchen and opened up the fridge door. _Watch it_ , he chastised himself. _Don't go thinking things like that._

"Nothin' fancy, though," he called to the other room. "No room service, and ..." His voice trailed off as he surveyed his fridge, which contained mostly condiments and a case of beer. "No food, either." He laughed a little, embarrassed. "I forgot, I was going to go to the Mars after I went to the gym, but ..."

"But I distracted you?" Hal's voice came from considerably closer than Guy had expected, and before he even had a chance to react, there was a hand on his shoulder. Guy turned his head just slightly, and then quickly faced front again; Hal was right there, looking over Guy's shoulder into the fridge. 

"Guess so," Guy said after a moment. 

"Sorry," Hal said, more amused then apologetic, and then silence, and Guy was trapped: one hand braced against the fridge and the other in his pocket, and Hal standing right behind him. It wasn't indecent or anything; there was a fair bit of space between them. But still, Guy felt his face start to heat up a little. He was working out what to say when Hal moved away, suddenly, hand removed from Guy's shoulder.

"So where is there to eat around here?"

Guy turned, shutting the fridge door behind him; Hal was leaning on the kitchen table, hands gripping the edge and legs crossed in front of him, head canted slightly to look out the window. It was getting dark. "Nowhere?" he asked, and Guy realized he hadn't answered.

It wasn't that he'd been staring; if he'd wanted to, there been ample time for that earlier, in the gym: Hal shirtless, but insisting laughingly he could play in his jeans, muscles straining, hair damped down with sweat ...

Not that he'd been staring. And he still hadn't answered. "Would you mind if we just ordered in?" he said finally. "Tomorrow, I can show you the real sights of Baltimore."

Hal smiled, and it was almost blinding. "That would be great." He sounded like he meant it.

"Great," Guy echoed, and crossed the room, picking up the phone. "Chinese okay?"

"Sure," Hal said. "How's their lo mein?"

 

***

 

The sofa-bed was, in fact, comfortable. Guy hadn't spent much time on it in the years he'd owned it; he hadn't even realized it existed when he bought the sofa second-hand.

Hal seemed to be fine with it; he was sprawled on one side, one leg dangling off the side and the container of lo mein balanced on his stomach. He'd done an impressive job thus far of not spilling his beer, despite the fact that his head and shoulders were only barely elevated. Guy was on the other side of the sofa, sort of pressed into the corner — not because he was trying to keep as far as possible from Hal, nothing like that; it was just comfortable — and alternately popping pieces of General Tso's into his mouth or petting Katt ("What's his name?" "Katt." "You named your cat 'Cat'?"), who was balanced on the arm of the sofa. 

"Even in that get-up, Kim Hunter is a looker."

Guy choked, and a piece of chicken fell out of his mouth, back into the container.

Hal looked over. "You okay there, buddy?" he asked, amused.

"Hal, she's a monkey!"

"Gorillas are apes, not monkeys. And anyway, look at her!" He gestured at the television. "The clothes hide her figure — and what a figure! — but her face is so expressive. And the way she moves ..." He made an appreciate noise. "And anyway, I can appreciate ..." He paused, and his eyes slid over to Guy. "All kinds of beauty."

Guy had just managed to get a handle on his chopsticks again when Hal focused on him. It was ... Hal seemed like a fun guy: easy-going and easy to amuse, and an intense competitor but not a sore winner (or loser; Guy had bested him the second round). This was much more intense than that.

"Oh yeah?" He knocked back his beer, finishing off the can. "So you don't just go for ..." He waved the can about a little, thinking. Hal had been very nice to Laurie, the receptionist at the gym. "Blondes?"

"Actually," Hal said, and his voice was very low, his eyes still focused on Guy. "Lately, I've been very fond of redheads."

Guy took a deep breath, choked on it, and stopped breathing entirely. And then Hal was sitting up, and moving the food somewhere safe, and then he was right there, taking up all of Guy's personal space.

Hal, Guy tried to say, but it didn't come out because Hal's lips were pressed, ever so softly, against his. 

"Hal!" He was able to say it this time, a hand on Hal's shoulder pushing him away, if not very hard. "I don't — I'm not —" And Hal was still wearing that lazy smile.

"I thought you were supposed to be without fear," Hal murmured, which didn't make any sense, and when he kissed Guy again, Guy let him.

 

***

 

Guy woke up the next morning with the sun filtering through venetian blinds, and his first thought was panic: this bright out, and his alarm should have gone off; even on the weekends, he always — and then he realized that he wasn't in his own bed, and then he realized he could smell coffee.

Then he opened his eyes. Oh yes. His living room. His sofa-bed. Where he'd ... 

He shut his eyes again, stretched, his whole body moving until he was comfortable again. Choice bits of last night replayed in his mind, and he smiled, before finally shrugging off the comforter and getting out of bed, walking into the kitchen in his boxers.

"Morning," Hal said from behind the sports section of _The Sun_ , and it seemed that no, this wasn't going to be awkward at all. "Sleep well?" He folded the paper and put it down on the table. He grinned. "You really don't have any food."

"There should be some Cheerios in the cupboard," Guy said, stretching once more, and crossing the room to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

"No milk, either," Hal said, as Guy opened the fridge and saw this for himself.

Guy laughed a little, and carried his mug over to the table. He sat down, and kicked at Hal's ankle. "I'll have to get groceries. And then," he promised, "I'll show you Baltimore."

Hal smirked and kicked back. "Absolutely. I'm looking forward to it."

Guy ducked his head a little, which mostly failed to hide his grin.

"And you'll have to come out to Cali sometime, buddy," Hal said. "I'll take you flying."


End file.
